


Let Me Go

by kait_kat



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alcohol, And says dumb shit, Cullen gets drunk, Drinking, Drunk Inquisitor, F/M, Heavily said and stated non consent, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Racial slur????, Swearing, adriobull, and also some at bull, non con, non con kissing and touching, vint is used does that count
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 07:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8614462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kait_kat/pseuds/kait_kat
Summary: Cullen always hated to lose. Lose at chess. Lose in battle. Lose his family and friends. But nothing hurt more than losing her...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> YIKES so first time to ever publish something on here??? would appreciate any feedback on this

     “Cullen.” The voice was full of questioning and seeking answers. It echoed out into the cold brisk air of Skyhold. He shouldn't be up so late and yet he was.  

     He wanted to be so god damn tired that even his desk looked like a bed. He would train, he would take hours on simple task at the war table like tracking down Crestswood mayor or planing that march for Sera. All of it so he couldn’t hear her voice.

     “Cullen answer me damnit.” He didn't want to answer her. Whatever bullshit answer he could muster to tell her wasn't good enough. He had been a reckless drunk fool. God damn Dorian… the Vint… no, no. No time for name calling. But Dorian had been the one to let Cullen get drunk if not heavily buzzed. The tavern was in full swing. He was there. Dressed down to a pair of long brown pants, some very worn down boots and a white shirt. Not the cape , no slicked back styled hair and no armor.

     Just Cullen. And he liked “just Cullen” a lot better than commander Cullen. Commander Cullen would have been the tight ass yelling about how drinking and swearing was barbaric behavior.

     “None of my answers are good enough for you, Inquisitor. Because they won't sum up how I feel. About what I did. I was a careless fool.” Cullen is finally able to face her for the first time after what he did. Every look at her he was reminded of how much he loved her and how hard he'd fallen. He never thought anyone would catch him fancy after being a Templar. He spent too long training. Too long being told he was a worthless piece of shit and to toughen up and only let two thoughts in: victory and training. That's all it ever was. Too train to win. Win to train harder for next time. So when the striking yellow-green, with a tint of red like brown, eyes caught his attention. When that pale blonde near white hair stood up under her helmet as he watches her fight, he was taken. The Maker could have ended the world and he wouldn't have ever noticed.

    “Can we just talk, Cullen.”

     “Inquisitor please if-”

     “Phyrra… Cullen… this isn't the Inquisitor and Commander Rutherford. This is Cullen and Phyrra and right now I'm asking you to talk to me.”

     “It sounds more like a command than a simple idle chat.” In that moment he knew he fucked up. Phyrra was a warrior. It was strange to see an elf be a warrior. Like she they held their slim frames, the long arms and legs. Always looking so graceful and yet so full of death and destruction. She was no mage like Solas and no rouge like Sera. She was different. He liked different. So it was no surprise when Phyrra was nose to nose with him(he took notice how she stood on her tiptoes) and glared a look of death into his eyes. Those stunning, dangerous, beautifully mixed up color eyes that made his heart melt.

     His back was to the door of his office and his hands raised. Thankful she never carried a dagger when dressed down to her pants and shirt. She had every right to be demanding some answers from him.

     “How do you just drunkenly do that to someone!? How?! And not expect them to not want an answer?!” Her yelling seemed so much louder. Maybe because he was still slightly buzzed.

     “Phyrra I know you want an answer but I can't give you one!” He shot back at her. He even surprised himself at his sudden anger. He was never to yell at her. At anyone that wasn't either being annoying or bothering him. He can tell he's certainly dealing with the alcohol and lyrium withdrawal.

_You made me stop taking that, he thought, and for that I take unjustified anger out on you when all you want to do is help._

     Phyrra took a step back and lowers herself down. Submitting. She wasn't the one to submit. Cullen liked that about her. How he'd watch her train with Cass, go toe to toe with Solas over the inner workings of elven culture. His heart thumped loudly he felt like it was going to blow a hole out of his chest. Did she see the lyrium addict that was locked away in him? Did she see the old and hard Cullen? The way he use to be? Or did she see drunk and angry Cullen? A Cullen he hated with every fucking bone in his body.

     He didn't know which one scared him the most. Maybe she saw all three.

     He stands there with her in a moment of silence. The sounds of soft mountain air and the crows flying back with letters. Below men and women stumble drunkenly out of the inn. The inn is alive with music and chatter. The moon is hidden by thick clouds yet it cast a soft silver glow over the sleeping Skyhold.

     “Phyrra I'm sorry I… please let me explain I-I just-”

     “Save it, commander… I bid you a goodnight.” He watches her walk away as his hands reach just out enough to grasp what little air lay between his finger and her slim hand. He can't bring himself to release his hand as it would be like he let her fully slip away. He watches every little detail of her. How she held her shoulders up and head like a warrior yet walks like wolf. One foot in front of the other. Gentle steps that dare not make a sound. The farther she walks, the more his heart cracks and the anger fills them.

     “I just love you…” he softly says into the gentle night. They are carried away by the wind and never reach her ears.

     And for that he lets go of his hand and lets it fall and retreats back into his quarters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Caution: there is non con in this chapter but only in regards to kissing and touching. Also heavy use of alcohol and the Inquisitor being drunk *

     “Forget that curly haired blonde tight arse. You don't need him.” Sera was always so brash and bold. She didn't care too much for Cullen to start with. Phyrra just wanted her to leave. She sat at a table by the fireplace and let the sounds of crackling fire drown out her woes.

     “I know you aren't a fan of him but Sera for my sake could you please be positive?” Phyrra tells her tiredly. She holds a mug of ale in her hand that she pounds back and slams down. Cullen just… she didn't know how Cullen made her feel. She felt angry and upset and just full of questions. And Cullen couldn't stand up for himself. Yet maybe she was just acting too angry at him. He wasn't Cullen tonight now was he?

     “I see, yeah? You're up here, with your anger and Cullen is way down here with his guilt. I say you just maybe find a middle ground, yeah? I saw you two fighting. Kind of hot I must say,” sera laughs a little, “sorry probably no time for compliments?”

     “Well I do like hearing the “hot” part but not really,” Phyrra smiles a little, “but maybe middle ground is best.”

     Sera looks around as she looked back to her. Phyrra wondered how her , a warrior, Solas, a mage, and Sera a rouge all shared common ground with the Dalish and grown up such vastly different ways. Solas so reserved, sera so loud and out there and Phyrra she was full of rage and anger yet saw herself in both of them.

     “Well like I said, find a middle ground. And if you can't and he's still acting like a fucking arse biscuits just give me the word and I'll put an arrow to his bloody ugly face.”

     Phyrra looks at her with a dead expression. “Sera… please…”

    “I'm just saying! Or maybe we could loosen the legs of his desk again! Or maybe I could put a dagger in his boots! Or maybe I”

     “Thank you Sera!” Phyrra said too loudly. It cause for people to stare which makes her sit back down into her seat she didn't even realize she had been rising out of. Sera seems slightly hurt but the expression is gone quickly as she notes one of Bulls Chargers, the girl known as Dalish, walks in. Phyrra sat back down and sighed as she slumps on her arm alone once more.

    _Maybe I should have just let it go… this is what I get for being so god damn stubborn._

     She had been out just by the battlemats training alone when she noted Cullen walking. Buzzed, but didn't seem hammered like Bull. She noted how he looked so… not Cullen tonight. Dressed down not up. Hair not styled and no sword by his side. She liked this view better than the mountains. She could stare all day at him and never tire.

 _“Inquisitor, a-a word a moment.”_ Cullen looked like he had something important to say. He always walked with head high, shoulders back and left foot right foot. The small things she noted and liked about him. She also noted he got embarrassed around her he'd stutter but tonight, being buzzed, she wasn't sure what Cullen she was going to get.

_“Yes? Everything fine Cullen? What's the matter? Dorian and Bull being too loud again?”_

_“No i-it's not I just… I had to s-see you, Inquisitor.”_ Cullen was awfully close to her. She never mind being closer to him. But she was dealing with a drunk or buzzed Cullen. One she particularly didn't enjoy. She set her sword back on the rack and focused her attention on him. Cullen smelled of ale and Dorian. The two stand there so close she feels even smaller next to him. He reaches out to touch her face, just right where a loose strand hung. He allows for him to brush it away and let a warm heat grace her cheeks.

     “Cullen I think you're drunk. Why don't you”

“ _No I need y-you, Inquisitor, I need to tell you something… y-you just look so pretty when you train. You look pretty all t-time.”_ Phyrra’s face reddened yet she felt a hint of uncomfortableness. She clasped her small hand around his large one and pushes is back gently.

      _“Why don't you tell me in the morning? When you're more sober. It can wait can't it?”_

 _“No! I-I mean no it can't I just… I need…”_ he closes the small gap between them as Cullen had pressed her back into the wall and had his lips pressed on hers. The kiss tasted like alcohol. Cullen had such soft lips. Lips she could only dream about kissing and should have been happy to have them right on her lips and yet… wasn't. The kiss wasn't what she would think about and daydream about. Soft, warm. Fitted so perfectly on hers and she could have easily taken her arms and embraced him and by the Maker could have taken it beyond the kissing and touching with him. He certainly was letting one of his hands touch her and held her by the hips and the other free hand had gone to cup her face. She could keep doing this all day long…

     But she hadn't.

     She had pushed him back, enraged and confused. Cullen had sobered up at the sudden anger. Kissing her and touching her like that. That was not the Cullen she liked and sure as hell wasn’t the Cullen she wanted.

_“Inquisitor I'm…Maker I'm… e-excuse me Inquisitor..”_

     All that had led to the fight. And now landed her drinking her heart out. She eyes the corner and sees Dorian and Bull holding hands across the table. She could be angry at Dorian but yet was it his fault ? 100% was it his fault? No. No it's not his fault. Cullen was an adult, he could have rejected drinking. Dorian, her, Bull and Cole had been out for three long days questing so of course she would expect Dorian to want to get shitfaced.

     Drinking the ale alone and watching the two lovers made her think of Cullen once more. How he had spent all day keeping so busy and when she wanted to talk to him she was told by a worker he was busy and unable to see her. The hurt caused her to drink more.

     “You drink for the pain. You drink for the anger not yourself.” Coles voice was always so soft and gentle. She hadn't even noticed him sitting across form her with his doe like eyes peeking out from the long blonde hair and hat. “You hate how he keeps busy but you don't know why he does. That hurts you more. Let me in just let me in you tell yourself but he doesn't.”

     “Have I ever told you how much I fucking hate it when you do that?” She shot back she takes the mug that Cole holds in his hand. “And don't drink this shit kid, Bull would tell you the same,” she takes a harsh swing of it and lets some even drop down her chin, “ you're not ready for this kind of ale yet.”

    “And neither are you,” Cole spoke softly as he reaches out and lowers the mug from her grasp, “you hate feeling drunk but love it when it benefits you. It burns and stings your throat but you enjoy that when your throat is already so tight from trying to not cry. Tears get replaced by cloudiness and it stops you from crying.”

     Phyrra wanted to reach across the table and take cold by his skinny neck and murder him. But she couldn't. Because Cole was right. Cole was always right. He spoke and put into words how she felt right now and didn't even take a notice in how she got that tight feeling in her throat.

     “Varric has been teaching you an awful lot, Cole,” Phyrra tells him through the tightness.

     “He has to explain and repeat a lot. Sometimes he'll tell me when I'm older when I ask what something is. But I want to help. You need help.” She noted the sparkle in his eyes st wanting to help. She felt foggy now. Judgment not so sharp and her surroundings seemed to wash out into muddy colors. She feels like she's being lifted into the sky by some unknown force before draped along a shoulder. Tears want to come but they don't. She shuffles her feet and spews whatever bullshit she can think of at Cole. Dorian and Bull come into her foggy mind. Dorian holds a look of worry and so does Bull.

      “You been knocking back the hard stuff, Boss,” Bull says as he rises from his seat. Dorian elbows him and clears his throat.

     “What he means is, why don't we take a walk Inquisitor? Might do you some good.” Phyrra makes out a smile on his face but she feels too tired and lightheaded to care.

     “I'm trying to help her. I want to help. I don't like her like this.” She tells Cole something. Maybe the lines of to stop worrying about her like a kid does to their mother. She doesn't know anything she's saying at this point.

     “As do I, kid. Come on. Let's go treat her on that walk. Sound good, Boss?” She feels Bull’s hand on her shoulder as all she can do is look up and it feels like she's staring into a tunnel and getting her neck ready to snap in two.

    “Yeah… walk—walks are nice I-I like them—I-I could go for one n-now…”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Possibly part 2 maybe part 3 to come? The world may never know.


End file.
